"
"Whatever comes, I'll be myself or try to be. Is that what you mean?"
"Exactly."
"And if you change?"
"But I shall not!"
"Why do you say that so positively?"
"Because--well, there are some things that we wish to believe and half
believe, and some things that we believe that we believe, and somethings
that we _know_. I _know_ about you--about my love for you."
"It is strange in a way, isn't it?" Marian was gently drawing her fingers
through his. "This is all so different from what I used to think love would
be. I used to picture to myself a man, something like you in appearance,
only taller and fair, who would be my master, who would make me do what he
wished. I think a woman always dreams of a lover who will be strong enough
to be her ruler. And here----"
"So I am not the strong man that you look up to and tremble before? We
shall see."
"Don't laugh at me. I mean that instead I have a man who makes me rule
myself. You make me feel strong, not weak, and proud, not humble. You make
me respect myself so."
"The democracy of love--freedom, equality, fraternity. Don't you like it?"
"Madame is served." It was the servant holding back one of the portieres,
his face expressionless, his eyes down.
* * * * *
Happiness evades description or analysis.
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